You know what’s hard about blogging? “No, Jo, what’s hard about blogging-(because to us it seems so easy),” you say. Well, you can’t complain about people. Or tell fun stuff. Or gossip. Or dredge up the past. Because sure as you do, you just KNOW for certain that the person will find out. Some mean spirited snoop or some nosybody would probably tell them there is a blog reference to them (“hey guess what Jo wrote about you on her blog, ha ha” said in a sing-song-y type voice)... and then there you go. You are in T-R-O-U-B-L-E!
And even if no one says a word.. you live in fear from now on (in your head) that some sneaky two-faced blabbermouth will eventually get mad at you (at some point in the distant future – heck, they can’t love you forever) read it and spill their guts about it and then there you are…
Or worse yet, you die and then the bereaved relatives in an attempt to keep you alive in their grief stricken hearts, go out and read every note, term paper, (and unfortunately for you, blog) you ever wrote, to assuage their monstrous loss and guess what? They find out that not only did you spill your guts about every secret they ever told you, but that you thought them all the stupidest most ridiculous, high-maintenance people on the face of the earth. So, even though you are gone, you are now in T-R-O-U-B-L-E. Actually, this is (dare I say will be?) kind of a fun way to be in trouble, although you do run the risk of them not scattering your ashes where you want or suffer some other indignity (depending upon WHEN they read the stuff – before or after the service).
Next subject you can't blog about is your lousy rotten job. You can't elaborate on all the jerks and losers you have to put up with day after day, especially your egotistical, dictatorial boss, because, again… blah, blah, blah and then they all know. (Then it’s “guess who lost her job?” whispered in a guess-what-lurid-detail-I-know type of voice).
And duh… you can’t complain about religion OR politics OR the economy because as you know, opinions are like a commonly referenced orifice… and I hear that everyone has one. (“Do you know what Joann said on her blog about _____?” shouted in a highly indignant, outraged, the-nerve-of-her-how-could-she voice.) So that’s off limits too.
Which is probably why people talk about what wonderful weather we are having, OR their amazingly intelligent and wonderfully charming kids and sweet beloved pets, OR their beautiful artistic patios, OR their brand new beautifully green lawns OR their fantastic, exciting vacations in exotic locales. The really interesting stuff (not that all this isn’t interesting because it is, truly "white-knuckle-on-the-edge-of-your-seat-stuff…" very, very interesting... really). But I want to know what they DON’T say, what they CAN’T say, what they dare not reveal on threat of death by bludgeoning.
Thus is the irony: The drivel we commit forever to our blogs isn’t nearly as interesting as what we really know, but dare not reveal. As my dear departed mother always said, “Don’t put anything in writing that you wouldn’t want to read on the front page of the New York Times.” I know I don’t often read the NYT but I am deathly afraid that some do-gooder out there who knows me would stumble on it while searching for the movie ads and then it would be, “Hey, how in the $#@% did a loser like her get published in the Times, and did you hear what she said about ____?.” (said in a totally-astonished-knock-me-over-with-a-feather voice).
